


Here Tomorrow, Gone Today

by BisexualGhoul



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Episode: s03e14 Escape from the ImpossiBin!, Feelings Realization, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, and some very nice queer moms, featuring an appearance by Launchpad's wereduck ex, first dt17 fic! can I get a woo-oo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BisexualGhoul/pseuds/BisexualGhoul
Summary: Drake's had a rough night; he got slapped around by criminals and came home to find some steel-beaked weirdo stealing the plans he needs to help find his new crime-fighting partner/ward's family. When Launchpad finally comes back from his latest ex-significant other's quest, Drake is forced to consider why he's so upset with his best friend's absence.
Relationships: Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard & Launchpad McQuack, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 13
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very disappointed that I got into the DT17 fandom right as it got cancelled but I'm holding out hope for that Darkwing reboot! Enjoy me turning Drake's 6 second cameo into a multi-chapter fic lmao
> 
> Title from The Balancer's Eye by Lord Huron

“Hey Sweetheart. You don’t mind me borrowing this do ya?”

Drake stood in his own doorway gobsmacked. He had just gotten off of patrol—by himself, mind you, because Gosalyn was at a sleepover with her hockey buddies and Launchpad had cancelled for unspecified reasons. He was tired after a night of roaming around St. Canard and fighting crime alone, so he expected to come home to his secret hideout and watch Darkwing Duck reruns and eat fast food until he passed out on the couch. What he didn’t expect was some steel-beaked weirdo to be in his apartment when he got back. 

“Who are you, villain?” He asks in his best Darkwing voice, trying not to panic about a villain knowing where he—and therefore Gosalyn—lives. 

“No time for introductions, Darkwing Dork. I got what I came for,” the taller man says, holding up the Solego Circuit plans. 

Darkwing stiffens upon realizing what he has. The chicken is significantly bigger than him, but there is no way he would give up those plans without a fight. He launches himself at the villain, trying to get as many hits in as he can. Unfortunately, he’s already exhausted and injured from his previous exploits. It had been a rough night, more crimes than usual, being perpetrated by beefier goons than usual. A few hard punches and even harder pecks from the steel-beaked bird and Darkwing Duck is down for the count. He is left helpless to do anything but watch through a swollen eye as the villain leaves with the plans, cackling into a communicator pinned to his suit as he goes. 

Drake doesn’t know how long he lays there. His body is sore and all he wants to do is take a nap. Eventually, he manages to haul himself up and sits down in his chair in front of W.A.N.D.A. He’s not sure what to do at first, but decides it would probably be smart to call McDuck and see if he knows what’s going on. He picks up his phone and dials Scrooge in one hand, and picks up a compact mirror in the other. 

“Some bruiser with a steel beak—didn’t catch his name—stole the Solego circuit plans” Drake tells Scrooge’s voicemail briskly, looking at his cuts in the mirror. 

Drake closes the compact with a wince and hangs up. He’s unsure about what to do now. He doesn’t want to ruin Gosalyn’s sleepover but he knows she’ll be upset that he didn’t tell her sooner about what happened if he waits until the morning. He decides to call Launchpad in the meantime while he figures out what to say to Gosalyn. He quickly bandages his bloodier cuts before returning to the couch and flopping onto it with a wince.

After calling Launchpad three times and going to voicemail each time, Drake decides he needs to get some rest. He tells himself that he doesn't have the energy to worry about Launchpad’s whereabouts at the moment, but as he drifts off into an uneasy sleep on the couch, the worry trickles through regardless.

Launchpad hauls himself up and out of the ditch his plane crashed into. Or, well, the ditch newly created by said crash. As he surveys the damage, he winces as he remembers that Della had threatened that if anything happened to her plane she would skin him alive. Oh well, he didn’t have time to worry about that. He was supposed to be on patrol with DW tonight, but he’d informed the other duck that he probably wouldn’t be able to make it. He had received a distress call from a former flame, a wereduck named Davy. 

Davy had called him in a panic, hurriedly explaining how their family needed help dealing with some vampires encroaching on their territory. They dated in college and had backpacked across Europe together. They broke up after a few months, but they kept in touch throughout the years. Launchpad couldn’t say no; he knew Drake was more than capable of going on patrol by himself for a night, in spite of how much it worried him. Davy had specified that time was of the essence, so Launchpad called Drake and simply told him that he had some business to take care of so he couldn’t come. Drake had been understanding, and Launchpad promised he’d be over as soon as he could. 

Launchpad pats his pockets, looking for his phone to call Drake and check in, as it was much later into the night than he had planned. Coming up empty handed, he heads back to the plane, realizing that it probably fell out of his pocket during the crash. He discovers the broken remains of his cell under the copilot’s seat. And a little bit under the dash. And his own seat. The point is that he definitely won’t be able to call Drake--or anyone else for that matter. He knows he can get the Sun Chaser—or Cloud Slayer—back into flying condition by himself in no time, so he grabs a pack of gum and gets to work, humming the Darkwing Duck theme song as he goes.

Drake has only been asleep for a couple of hours when he’s startled awake by the sound of someone crashing through the door. He darts up and off the couch and immediately regrets it as a headache rips through his head, dizzying him momentarily. Before he can collapse, familiarly broad arms catch him and prop him up.

“Woah there, you ok DW?” Launchpad asks with a frown.

Drake takes a second to steady himself before pulling out of Launchpad’s arms and standing on his own. Launchpad turns the lights on and returns to Drake’s side. He turns to face Launchpad, whose face falls when he looks at Drake fully. He looks rough. There are cuts in his uniform with hastily wrapped bandages peeking through, and he has bandages on his beak and a black eye. Launchpad wilts. Whatever had happened to DW is worse than his past exploits. He hadn’t even looked this rough after the fight with Bulba.

Drake self-consciously raises a hand to his face. He knows he doesn’t exactly look top notch right now, but Launchpad’s silent staring is unnerving. Launchpad physically shakes his shock away and blurts out:

“DW what happened?” 

“Well, it was a rougher patrol than usual. The crime rate here has been rising since Gizmoduck started getting help from that robot child in Duckburg. And when I got home, I was kinda ambushed,” Drake says rubbing the back of his neck. Saying it out loud, he finds himself a bit embarrassed about being caught off guard in his own lair. Launchpad grabs his arms and lifts him a couple inches off the ground.

“I’m so sorry DW,” he says sadly, “I should've been there.”

“We have bigger problems,” Darkwing asserts sternly, trying not to cry out in pain as he wiggles out of Launchpad’s grasp. “The guy stole the Solego Circuit Plans.”

“Wha-? But--but Bulba is behind bars! Who else could’ve taken them?” Launchpad shouts, confused and still worried about his partner.

“It was some rooster with a metal beak. He was huge and tough but didn’t seem very bright. He had to have been working for someone else…” Drake mutters, wondering who it could be. “This feels bigger than just us. I called Mr. McDuck but he didn’t answer.”

“Rooster with a steel beak? Sounds weird. I’m sure Mr. McDee will get back to us about it soon,” Launchpad says, scratching his chin. He suddenly startles and shouts, “We need to tell Gosalyn!” He instinctively reaches for his phone before remembering that it was destroyed.

“I know. We will. She’s at a sleepover right now; do you think we should go get her? Or just pick her up in the morning like planned?” Drake worries, caught between not wanting her friends’ parents to question why he was picking her up in the middle of the night and not wanting her to feel betrayed if he didn’t tell her immediately.

Launchpad frowns, considering their options. Drake doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so serious, barring the time he went on a too-long monologue to save Drake from a deranged Jim Starling with a chainsaw. 

“You definitely need to rest, but we’ve gotta tell her. I’ll go get her,” Launchpad says, gesturing to himself with his thumb.

“You’re right,” Drake agrees with a sigh, “I’ll call the parents and let them know we had a family emergency and that you’re on the way to get Gosalyn.”

Launchpad nods, and turns to head towards the Ratcatcher. He pauses and asks “Are you sure you’re ok DW? I feel awful that I wasn’t there to watch your back.” Guilt tinges his voice.

“I’ll be fine,” Drake asserts, but secretly, he wonders what Launchpad had to take care of that was more important than patrol or the McDucks. “If it makes you feel better, you can check me over when you and Gos get back,” Drake offers.

“Sounds good,” Launchpad says with a crooked smile.

Drake watches him rev the engine and tear out of the lair. As he leaves, Drake slumps back onto the couch, his body aching fiercely. He wants to grab some pain meds but laying down feels nice. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the text message Gos had sent him with her friend’s parents’ phone number and presses the underlined numbers.  
The phone rings a few times and Drake worries that they won’t pick up, but the line clicks and he hears a groggy voice. 

“Hello?”

“Hi Mrs. Crowvanaugh? This is Drake Mallard, Gosalyn’s father.”

“Oh yes hello Mr. Mallard,” Mrs. Crowvanaugh says, sitting up in bed. If Mr. Mallard is calling this late, something has to be wrong.

“Is everything all right Mr. Mallard?”

“Well, we have a bit of a family emergency, so my--uh--my _partner _in coming to pick Gosalyn up, if--if that’s ok,” Drake says, nervous after stumbling about how to refer to Launchpad.__

__“Oh my goodness of course,” Mrs. Crowvanaugh responds, shaking her wife’s shoulder. The raven wakes up and goes to retrieve Gosalyn at her wife’s urging._ _

__“My wife is grabbing her as we speak. Is there anything we can do to help Mr. Mallard? Gosalyn is always welcome to stay here,” she offers._ _

__“Thanks Mrs. Crowvanaugh but we should be ok. I’ll let you know,” Drake replies._ _

__“Alright, take care Mr. Mallard.”_ _

__“You too Mrs. Crowvanaugh.”_ _

__Drake hangs up and heaves a sigh, regretting it almost instantly as it sends pain through his injured body. The more he wakes up, the more damage he becomes aware of. Bruised ribs, cuts, and beat up face. That metal mouth hadn’t held back. Feeling sorry for himself, Drake tries to muster up anger at Launchpad for not being there for him. He finds he can’t; Launchpad wouldn’t have left him had he known what would happen. And whatever he had to take care of had to have been important; he doesn’t like Drake patrolling alone. Drake wonders for a second if it was another situation like the ones Launchpad had described before. Launchpad had dated a ton of people, unlike Drake who didn't get his first boyfriend until he was 22. Apparently, LP has a fantastic relationship with everyone he's ever dated, and they all have a tendency of calling him for help whenever they need it. He and Launchpad weren't dating, but it always made Drake a little uncomfortable when Launchpad talked about his undersea adventures with Oceanika or fighting back to back with Ziyi against a local crime family. How is he supposed to compare?_ _

__Drake's introspection is cut short when Gosalyn and Launchpad burst back into the hideout on the Ratcatcher. He sighs, and tries to figure out what he's going to say to her as he walks down the stairs._ _


	2. Chapter 2

Drake drags his feet as he walks back into the main room of the lair, having just finished tucking Gosalyn in for what remained of the night. Normally, she rejected the thought of what was, in her eyes, baby stuff like being tucked in. But the conversation the three of them had about the Solego Circuit Plans had been a difficult one. 

Gosalyn had been distraught to hear of the theft. It wasn’t the only copy; Fenton had a copy and so did his boss-turned-coworker Gyro Gearloose. On top of being scared for the very obviously injured Drake, Gosalyn had been more upset that she had essentially sacrificed his grandfather for nothing, as the circuit plans had fallen into the hands of a villain regardless. Drake and Launchpad reassured her that they and the McDuck-Ducks would do everything in their power to ensure the plans were recovered, and that Drake would be ok once he had some rest. Launchpad hugged her close, feeling duly responsible for not being there to prevent the theft and keep Drake safe.

As Drake makes his way into the room, he sees Launchpad hunched over on the couch. For as large as he is, he looks incredibly small. 

“We’ll get the plans back,” Drake assures him as he sits gingerly next to him, “we won’t let them hurt anyone.”

“They already have,” Launchpad says, his voice quiet and grave as he turns to fix Drake with a devastated look..

Drake absentmindedly lifts a hand to brush over his bruised ribs, wincing as he accidentally brushes over a poorly wrapped cut.

“Oh this? “ Drake jokes, “This is nothing. You should’ve seen me after my first stunt work courses. Compared to that, I’m right as rain.”

“You’re not!” Launchpad explodes, causing Drake to flinch back, not out of fear, but because the probable-concussion that he has amplifies the sound ten-fold.

Launchpad’s reaction is instant, the arms that had flung outwards with his outburst are immediately retracted, and he curls in on himself once more, burying his head in his hands. Drake instantly feels terrible despite his movements having been out of his control. He reaches out and lays a gentle hand on Launchpad’s shoulder. Not knowing what else to do, he slowly lets his hand drift down to LP’s. He stands, tugging a shame-faced Launchpad up with him.

“Come on, partner. I believe someone promised to look me over and make sure I’ve got a clean bill of health?” 

Launchpad looks for half a second like he wants to say no, as if he’s somehow lost the privilege, but when Drake looks up at him with a reassuring smile, he finds himself agreeing regardless.

They venture into the main bathroom, where Launchpad reaches under the sink to pull out a comically large first aid kit while Drake gingerly peels off his costume. When Drake had patched himself up, he’d done so haphazardly, partially due to being in a post butt-kicking stupor and also out of a lack of focus, more concerned about next steps than caring for his battered body. Launchpad undoes the poor wrappings gently, rubbing a thumb over Drake’s side comfortingly without thinking. The action has the opposite effect, causing Drake to startle and redden at the intimacy of it. Launchpad startles in kind, and then stutters through an apology as his movements jostle Drake, agitating his injuries. As he finishes with Drake’s torso and moves onto his face, they meet eyes. Both look away quickly, Launchpad at the reminder that he should have been there to prevent the injuries marring the hero’s face, and Drake out of embarrassment at the closeness of their beaks. 

“Can--can I ask…” Drake trails off uncertainly, not wanting to make the situation more tense but unable to abate his curiosity any longer. He breathes and starts again.

“Can I ask why you couldn’t make it to patrol tonight?”

Launchpad frowns as he dabs disinfectant onto a cut on Drake’s beak. He has no reason to be dishonest, but finds himself not wanting to say where he was anyway. He isn’t sure why, but telling Drake he was with an ex now feels different from when he did it before. This isn’t the same as telling Drake a cool anecdote about the time he dated a viking shield maiden over burgers at Hamburger Hippo; it’s like admitting Davy was more _important_ to him than Drake. Which isn’t true at all! Drake and Gos are some of the most important people in his life! 

He loves them! 

LP’s mind stutters to a halt at that thought. He does love them both, but he realizes all at once that the way he loves Drake in a way that’s completely different from how he loves Gos or Mr. McDee or Loopy or Davy or anyone else for that matter. Launchpad McQuack naturally has a lot of love for people in his heart, but he’s _in love_ with Drake.

“--have to answer,” Launchpad hears, breaking him out of his revelation.

“Buh?”

“You don’t have to answer,” Drake repeats simply, as patient as ever with Launchpad’s tendency to get lost in his own head, “If it’s too--well--too _personal_ or something to share with me that’s not a problem.”

Launchpad realizes quickly that his hand had frozen in place at some point during his thought process, hanging uselessly in the air with a cotton pad pinched loosely between his fingers. He lowers his hand, embarrassed that Drake saw him realize he was in love with him without even knowing it.

“You don’t--you don’t owe me an explanation, I-I was just kind of curious you know--since you were gone so long and I was a little worried,” Drake carries on with a flap of his hand, not realizing the weight of Launchpad’s realization or recognizing that he himself was starting to babble, as he often did when nervous.

Launchpad resolves not to say anything. Well, not right now at least; he isn’t the best at keeping his feelings to himself. But there are more pressing matters at hand. Drake is in desperate need of rest and they need to figure out what they were going to do about the plans. He raises his hand back up to finish disinfecting the abrasions on Drake’s beak, silencing the other duck. 

Launchpad clears his throat before starting. “I was helping out an old—uh— _friend_. Davy. They needed help with some vampires that were challenging them for territory. Oh, they’re a wereduck by the way. That’s why they were fighting the vampires,” he explains. 

Drake, who had previously been looking into the distance, flicks his eyes up to look at Launchpad. He can tell from the tone Launchpad used that Davy isn’t just an old friend. Launchpad dated a _wereduck_. How cool was that? Another amazing, probably extremely attractive mythical creature. But him? Drake is just...Drake. An actor with no special powers or interesting backstory or anything. Being Darkwing Duck is the coolest thing about him, and he still gets called “that purple guy” or “some purple weirdo” if people even notice him at all. Of course Launchpad would rather hang out with Davy or Oceanika or any of his other incredible exes. Drake couldn’t even handle patrolling on his own for one night without getting the hell beat out of him.

If Launchpad notices Drake’s suddenly wilted demeanor, he doesn’t comment on it. It occurs to Drake that the silence between them has stretched far too long, and he should probably respond to the answer Launchpad gave him. He doesn’t want to be mad at LP. He doesn’t have the right to be mad because he _understands_ why Launchpad chose Davy over him. In spite of himself, Drake’s response has some bite to it. 

“Fighting _vampires_ with your _old pal_ Davy huh? Sounds real _exciting_ ,” he says, carefully crossing his arms to hold himself.

Given a different context, the statement would’ve been perfectly innocuous. As it is, Drake immediately regrets the way he let it come out. He sounds like some sort of jealous lover; it’s not a good look, and Drake quickly averts his gaze so he doesn’t have to see Launchpad’s reaction.

_I deserved that_ Launchpad thinks as his face falls. But before he can get into his head about it, Drake speaks up again.

“That, um, that--that came out wrong,” Drake stutters apologetically, moving to rub the back of his neck but flinching back into his previous position at the twinge that arose in his ribs.

“I don’t blame you at all for needing to help your friend. I should’ve been able to handle patrolling on my own for one night. I’m just...tired a--and in pain and I took out my bad mood on you. I’m sorry.”

“No, like I said earlier, I should have been there. I knew Gos wasn’t gonna be there to watch your back and I left anyway. Not that I wish Gos was there since that metal beak guy didn’t seem to be holding back, but you know what I mean. When I said Darkwing Duck was bigger than one man, I meant it. There’s nothing wrong with needing help. I know you can do it on your own--you’re one of the strongest people I know. I’m not saying that you can’t, I’m saying that you shouldn’t have to.”

Drake fights the part of himself that craves self-reliance, the part that tells him that Darkwing was never supposed to have a side-kick. Then again, Launchpad was never a side-kick; he’s always been his partner. LP is just as much a part of Darkwing Duck as he is. Still, he fears that he and Darkwing aren’t enough for Launchpad. Not when Launchpad has his adventures with the McDuck-Ducks and his escapades with his varied exes. Between his other responsibilities and the time-consuming drive to St. Canard, Drake feels like he’s biding his time until Launchpad decides he isn’t worth the trouble anymore. That would break Drake. He isn’t sure he could do this without Launchpad, and even if he can, he doesn’t _want to_. LP is an integral piece of his and Gosalyn’s lives. Drake loves him.

Drake shoves his feelings as deep into his injured chest as they’ll go. He fixes Launchpad with a slightly watery smile.

“I know LP, and I appreciate you more than you know. How about we go get some well-deserved rest?” Drake urges, only having to force his joviality a little bit. He stands and rests a hand on LP’s shoulder, guiding the taller duck through the bathroom door out into the lair. Launchpad has his own semi-official bedroom in one of the lair’s many spare rooms, a physical reminder in Drake’s mind that this is where he belongs.

“Thanks for patching me up, partner. Goodnight,” Drake says genuinely, turning back to Launchpad with a smile. He may not fully believe that he’s earned it, but he appreciates Launchpad’s presence in his life all the same. 

For his part, Launchpad musters up a soft smile, the guilt he’s felt all night being momentarily overridden with a fluttering in his heart at the domesticity of going to bed in the same home as Drake and Gos. They may not be a conventional family, and they might have a lot to work through, but Launchpad would take the good with the bad.

“No problem DW. ‘Night.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next day is spent in a heated debate about next steps; the McDuck-Ducks eventually got back to them, explaining that the Solego Circuit Plans were just one of various other items that had been stolen. They had no plans currently to go after the stolen objects; they would be doing what they could to prepare for future attacks. That left Launchpad, Drake, and Gosalyn to decide if they wanted to after the plans themselves or wait for the McDuck-Ducks to go on the offensive. As much as it pained him, Drake knows they need to wait for reinforcements. If this F.O.W.L. thing was bad enough to make the bravest family of adventurers in the world play defense, then it wouldn’t be feasible for them to do this on their own. Launchpad agrees, knowing personally just how much it meant that his family was backing down for the moment. Gosalyn, on the other hand, very much wants to go after the plans. 

“This is literally no worse than fighting Bulba! He had four _supervillains_ on his side and we won anyway! We can’t just give up,” she says, stomping her foot on the coffee table she’s standing on for emphasis.

“I know how much this means to you Gosalyn, I do, but this is _nothing_ like that,” Drake explains, looking up at her from his place on the couch, “We had the upper hand then because we know literally everything about Darkwing Duck villains. F.O.W.L. is some shady organization we know nothing about! They could have hundreds of agents just as tough as that steel-beaked guy. Or worse! We can’t go into this blind and alone. This is bigger than us.”

“DW is right. We should wait for Mr. McDee to tell us when we’re needed. Until then, Fenton and Gyro can keep looking into how to get your Grandpa back and we’ll keep patrolling like usual.”

Gosalyn’s eyes fill with frustrated tears. Before Drake or Launchpad can say anything else, she hops down and storms upstairs to her room, slamming the door. The slammed door makes Drake wince, feeling responsible for not keeping the plans safe in the first place. But what’s done is done.

“Should we…” Launchpad trails off, looking like he wants to go talk to Gosalyn.

“We should give her some time to cool down. This is really upsetting for her.” Drake says with certainty. 

“Sure thing, DW,” Launchpad agrees easily.

Drake raises an eyebrow, having expected Launchpad to challenge him on it. Seeing his confused expression, Launchpad explains his acquiescence.

“You know her better than I do,” he admits a bit self-consciously. They’d known Gosalyn for the same amount of time, but Drake is with her all day barring school and hockey practice, whereas Launchpad still spends a lot of time working for Mr. McDuck back in Duckburg. 

“Hey, you know her plenty well,” Drake asserts with a furrowed brow, scooching closer to Launchpad on the couch. For a half-second, Drake reaches his hand out to lay on top of Launchpad’s, but he pulls it away at the last second. He hopes the other duck didn’t notice; he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Launchpad notices the aborted movement. An unpleasant feeling erupts in his chest; does Drake know how he feels about him and just doesn’t want to get his hopes up? Or maybe he’s still mad that Launchpad abandoned him when he needed him? Or what if he--

“Launchpad? LP are you ok? Gosalyn will be alright if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll go talk to her in a little bit ok?” Drake reassures him, missing the mark but succeeding in bringing Launchpad out of his reverie nonetheless.

“Wha--huh? Oh no that’s not...well, yeah, I know she’ll be ok. She’s tough like that,” he responds, still not sure if he wanted to talk about his feelings for Drake.

“Yeah,” Drake says, suspicious about what Launchpad was thinking about.

They sit in silence for a couple of seconds, making Drake a bit uncomfortable. One of his favorite things about his friendship with LP is that they can talk for hours at a time without getting bored. When they aren’t talking, the silence is always comfortable as they do their own thing next to each other. This isn’t that. The discomfort grows within Drake as the seconds pass. Eventually he’s going to end up blurting out his thoughts ineloquently because he can’t take the silence. 

Launchpad faces a similar issue. This moment feels exactly the same as the time he thought Mrs. B was gonna fire him; he’s having a hard time sitting still and he feels like word vomit is gonna burst forth any moment.

Before either duck can disrupt the silence, Launchpad’s back-up phone lets out a chime from its place on the couch next between him and Drake. He had it stashed in the lair in case of an emergency, which was good since it had only been a matter of time until his phone became the unwilling victim of one of his crashes. He had texted Davy from the phone a while after getting back with Gosalyn, wanting to ensure that they were resting after the vampire fight. It seems Davy just found the time to respond.

Drake glances down at the phone without thinking and sees Davy’s name on the message. He frowns as Launchpad’s hand envelopes the phone quicker than Drake is able to read the message. Embarrassed at being caught staring at Launchpad’s phone, Drake apologizes.

“Oh um, sorry LP I didn’t mean to snoop.” It comes out high-pitched and self-conscious, and Drake cringes, looking down at his own lap.

“Not a problem DW. Don’t worry about it,” Launchpad says, forcing down the cold fear that sprung up in his chest. He just...doesn’t want Drake to think he’s taken or anything on the off chance that Drake is queer too and the even less likely chance that he’d be interested in him. The text from Davy is relatively simple, just a _Feeling much better! We’ll have to meet up for lunch or something soon :)_ that makes Launchpad smile, glad that his friend is alright.

“How’s--uh Davy doing?” Drake forces himself to ask. Maybe he’s just a glutton for punishment, because he definitely doesn’t want to talk about Davy but the words come out unbidden.

“Buh?” LP exclaims, looking up from formulating his response to see Drake looking at him with an unreadable expression.

“They’re good! We’re making lunch plans for when stuff gets less crazy,” he explains as he finishes typing and sends the message.

“Oh. Cool,” Drake says lamely, picking at a loose thread on the rolled up sleeve of his purple flannel.

The lukewarm response draws Launchpad’s attention away from his phone.

“You ok buddy? Your ribs aren’t bothering you are they? It's been a while since you had your last dose of painkillers. I’ll go get them,” he says, moving to stand up.

“What? No! I mean, I guess they hurt a little but I’m fine. Mostly. But you don’t have to get them I can do it later,” Drake assures him waving his hands back and forth.

“Drake,” Launchpad says, looking into Drake’s eyes seriously, “Just let me do this ok?”

Drake’s face flushes from the prolonged eye contact at such close proximity. Unable to respond verbally, Drake simply nods. Launchpad gives a smaller nod, looking as if he’s assuring himself of something rather than responding to Drake’s nod. Something about the way Launchpad spoke, voice low and firm like he thinks Drake’s comfort is the most important thing in the world, makes Drake’s whole body feel warm. But something about his body language is off. He had seemed to tense up when Drake wouldn’t let him bring him medicine. Maybe it’s because of the conversation they’d had the night before about Drake being able to rely on Launchpad for support? 

Before Drake can further ponder the issue, Launchpad returns with the painkillers and a glass of water. Drake resolves to make sure his friend knows how much he appreciates him.

“Thanks LP!” Drake says enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically, if Launchpad’s suspicious face is anything to go by.

“Uh, no problem buddy,” Launchpad responds, shaking two pills out of the bottle and setting the water on the coffee table. Drake accepts the pills and swallows them with a sip of water. 

Launchpad sits back down and the silence returns tenfold. Drake knows one of them is going to have to initiate whatever conversation is brimming between them, but he’s scared. When it comes to Darkwing Duck, he’s _all_ talk, brimming with confidence and quipping with ease. Drake Mallard on the other hand is a bit more reserved. He’s been an actor for most of his adult life, so of course he still retains a bit of an ego whether he’s wearing the cape or not, but at his core is the same little duck that had to fend for himself against a world that was out to get him. Be it the bullies of his youth or all of the people who told him he’d never make it as an actor. 

He tries not to think about those who had judged him for his sexuality. 

Drake Mallard, for all his theatrics and overconfidence, struggles with vulnerability. Launchpad is so open with his emotions; Drake doesn’t think he’s ever been like that. But he wants to. For Launchpad and for Gosalyn.

Launchpad wishes he had Drake’s confidence. The way he rushes into battle, willing to take on opponents three times his size if it means doing the right thing; he’s incredible. It’s easy for Launchpad to admit when he finds someone attractive; when he saw Penumbra for the first time, he’d asked her out on the spot. It was different with Drake, more gradual. It’s easy to jump right into a relationship based on attraction, it’s harder when they’re a friend, when they’re someone who’s such a big part of your life. He doesn’t want to mess this up. He’s been lucky so far; all of his exes stayed friends with him after they broke up, and they all trust him enough to call him when they need help. His relationship with Drake is so different from his relationship with everyone else he’s ever been with that he has no idea if admitting his feelings would do irreparable damage. What if he scares Drake off, and in the future when the vigilante gets into trouble he refuses to call Launchpad for help? Maybe it’s better this way, just being friends and knowing that Drake will let him be there for him.

After a couple more minutes of loaded side-glances and silence, Drake can’t take it anymore. It’s time to be brave.

“L-Launchpad,” Drake squeaks out before clearing his throat, embarrassed.

“Launchpad, can we talk?” he asks, voice steadier than before.

“Of course DW.”

“Drake. Could you, maybe um, call me Drake when I’m out of the costume?”

“Of course! I’m sorry if I was weirding you out,” Launchpad apologizes, feeling stupid for not realizing he was making Drake uncomfortable.

“It’s no problem! I was just sort of thinking that I need to be brave outside of being Darkwing, and that maybe it’s ok if I let myself just be Drake Mallard sometimes, you know?” Drake says, feeling awkward about speaking about himself in third person and not really knowing if any of that made sense.

“Oh yeah I get ya. Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Kind of? I guess? I think I-I want to talk about, well, us.” Drake stutters out ineloquently, already losing his nerve.

 _Oh no_. “Us?” Launchpad asks.

“Yeah...you-your...YOUR EXES MAKE ME UNCOMFORTABLE!” Drake blurts, his thoughts all jumbled up. He freezes, eyes widening. He starts shaking his head vigorously. “Wait no that’s-that’s not what I meant to say--”

“I knew it! I knew you were still mad at me for abandoning you when you needed me! Man I’m sorry Drake. You’ve gotta know that! I never meant to let you face it all alone. But if you--if you don’t want me to be your side-kick anymore I understand,” LP says, suddenly reserved.

“Huh? You’re not my _side-kick_!” Drake shouts, sounding offended.

Launchpad wilts further, but before the hurt can settle in, Drake continues.

”You’re my _partner_! There wouldn’t be a Darkwing Duck in real life without you. I...I’m _so sorry_ that I ever made you feel like you were less than that,” he says, half turning away from Launchpad out of shame.

“You didn’t, Drake, I just...I didn’t want to assume I meant more to you than I actually do,” Launchpad admits.

“Are you kidding? You mean the world to me! You and Gosalyn. My whole life, all I’ve ever wanted was this. People who understand me, people who care about me…” Drake trails off wincing as he realizes how sad that sounds.

“Like...like a family?”

Drake sighs, “Yeah, like a family.”

 _Maybe, just maybe_ , Launchpad thinks, _I’m not alone in how I feel_.

“Drake I…” Launchpad trails off, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turns red.

“Yeah?” Drake asks breathily, turning to look at Launchpad right as the other duck turns toward him. Their bills are mere inches apart, and Drake flushes at the realization but doesn’t try to move away.

“Ohhhhh my god just kiss already jeez!” Gosalyn exclaims, running a hand down her face as she watches them from her vantage point on the stairs. 

Drake practically jumps ten feet in the air, then grunts as his injuries flare up. Launchpad lets out a shout, flinging himself away from Drake as if they were caught doing something inappropriate. In the process of doing so, Launchpad winds up tumbling onto the floor with an _oof_.

“Don’t mind me,” Gosalyn says far too casually, “I just wanted to grab my crossbow so I could do some repairs while I sulk in my room or whatever teens do. Now I’m just gonna head back to my room, not to give you guys privacy or anything, just so I can work on my bow.”

She heads back to her room, raising her eyebrow at them when they stare at her like deer in headlights. She’s still not happy about their decision to let the plans go, but she loves them regardless. So if they need a little time to sort out their feelings then she’s more than happy to go to her room and let them do gross mushy stuff where she can’t see it. 

Drake fans his red face with one hand and holds the other over his pounding heart while Launchpad hauls himself back onto the couch. They meet eyes and immediately burst into raucous laughter. 

“Did you, um, did you want to tell me something LP?” Drake asks between giggles. 

“Yeah totally!” Launchpad shouts exuberantly. This feels more natural. Gosalyn’s interruption afforded a levity to the situation that hadn’t been there before. Feeling much more confident, Launchpad takes Drake's hand into his gently. He runs his thumb over the back of Drake’s, admiring how well their hands fit together. 

“Drake, I’m in love with you,” he says simply. He’s not afraid anymore. He knows he belongs with Drake and Gosalyn, and he knows that even if Drake doesn’t feel the same, he won’t hate him. 

“Oh Launchpad,” Drake says, looking up with a smile from their clasped hands. 

“I love you too. _Of course_ I love you too.”

They share a soft look and lean toward each other. It takes a little maneuvering to find the right placement, but the kiss they share is well worth it. Drake’s heart flutters in his chest, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so content. Launchpad cradles Drake’s face with his free hand, deepening the kiss. 

They pull apart eventually, and Drake leans carefully in to lay his head on Launchpad’s shoulder, squeezing his hand. 

“Sooo,” Launchpad begins smoothly, “You wanna go out for coffee sometime?”

Drake bursts out laughing, then presses his bill to Launchpad’s once more. 

“Hey wait a minute. What did you actually mean when you said my exes make you uncomfortable if you weren’t mad about last night?” Launchpad asks, pulling back.

“OH I--well I um, you know--”

Drake’s eyes widen as he begins stuttering out an excuse. He quickly gives up and pulls Launchpad into another long kiss, which the other duck accepts without complaint. Before they know it, it’s dark outside, and W.A.N.D.A. reports a crime in progress on the other side of the city. Launchpad immediately hops up and heads toward Gosalyn’s room while Drake goes to get his uniform. His body still aches from his encounter the previous night, but he knows that whatever is waiting for him outside, his family will be right there to back him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Ducktales blog on tumblr!  
> https://duckblog-woooo.tumblr.com/


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